


no more water in the lake

by orca_mandaeru



Series: the mire [1]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band), The Edge Chronicles - Paul Stewart & Chris Riddell
Genre: M/M, Pre-Relationship, The Mire, Wilderness Survival
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-17
Updated: 2018-08-17
Packaged: 2019-06-28 21:42:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15715638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orca_mandaeru/pseuds/orca_mandaeru
Summary: The Mire was like a beast. It was unpredictable and angry, but like many great beasts, there was a way to survive with it.Jihoon had been in the process of taming this great mud beast ever since it had swallowed up him and his parents and spat him out again.





	no more water in the lake

The Mire was like a beast. It was unpredictable and angry, but like many great beasts, there was a way to survive with it.

 

Jihoon had been in the process of taming the great mud beast ever since it had swallowed up him and his parents and spat him out again.  Since then, the Mire had taken hold of jihoon in its mysterious way. He was as at home in this treacherous place as he could be, and it showed. His once-dark hair and eyes had been bleached by the mud and fumes over the years, leaving his appearance as washed-out in color as the rest of the countryside.

 

Seungcheol still had his dark brown eyes, but his hair had already lightened to a dusty tan.

 

In Jihoon's most sentimental moments, when the strange but familiar pops and fizzles of mud and crows of hungry white ravens seemed so barren as to be unbearable, he thought of Seungcheol as his gift from the Mire.

 

Months ago he had heard the man's yells for help echoing across the white flats, ravens already circling menacingly in the air. Seungcheol had gotten caught in one of the sinking-mud pits that were so common. Jihoon knew them, of course he did.

 

A long time ago, when his eyes were still wide and innocent and dark brown, his throat sore from screaming and crying as his parents' heads disappeared beneath the sinking mud, their additional weight dragging them down. Eventually, after the mud had taken hold of him up to his ribs, Jihoon had let some buried instinct take him over.

 

He had laid back and swam, swam like he had as an even younger child in the shady pools of his old Deepwoods home.

 

His parents had never swum with him, too scared of the sucking depths.

 

And there was another in his same situation. Except behind Seungcheol there was a spike of wood disappearing into the mud. It could have been the handle of a cart or sled, but Jihoon knew better.

 

He recognized that intricate woodwork from the images his adoring eyes had taken in, of a sky pirate ship that had happened to visit his old village.

 

And Seungcheol was wearing heavy armor dragging him down, proudly polished bronze that would have looked impressive without the thick white mud clinging to it. Jihoon had stomped over as close to the edge of the sinkhole pit as possible with the help of his muglump-hide shell boots, pushing his makeshift bone spear out to the struggling man.

 

Seungcheol had taken it desperately and hauled himself agonizingly slowly out of the muck, falling heavily to his knees in thanks, dark, dark hair falling over his face. He had looked up and Jihoon with his dark, dark, eyes, full of a deep anguish that could only come with disappointing hundreds of people.

Well, Jihoon may not have ever experienced something like that, but he could certainly offer something else to do.

 

It was unlikely that Seungcheol would want to go back to Sanctaphrax, after all, and more unlikely that he would ever survive in the Mire alone.

 

And...it did get awfully lonely all by himself in the vast expanse of mud, no matter how much Jihoon prized his independence

.  
Right now, Jihoon was forging the path ahead, watching out for dangers such as the sinking-mud. The friendly sounds of Seungcheol chatting with the group they were leading drifted across the distance.

 

Jihoon stopped for a brief second and smiles to himself.

 

                                                                                                                    *  *  *  


Jihoon doesn't really like guiding. He likes it well enough, and, well, someone's gotta be an actually trustworthy guide to get people across the Mire. But customers are loud, and scared, and often too stupid for their own good. Plus, he has to catch enough food to feed other mouths as well as his own.  


Now, with Seungcheol here, it's nearly ideal. Jihoon scouts ahead, mapping out where the ever-shifting blowholes are and testing the mud. Seungcheol stays behind with the travelers, defending them from dangerous creatures and easing them with his small talk.

 

Jihoon is an expert in spotting dangerous exploding vents, the telltale pattern of mud half-melted and dripped back against itself dozens of time, like a well-used candle.

 

Seungcheol has learned, in the short time he's lived in the Mire, to spot in an instant hungry oozefish slugging through the mud. He's gotten adept at spearing them before they can get close, thereby also providing dinner for the night.

  


The White Ravens mostly leave them alone. They know Jihoon, know that he's particularly partial to roast raven no matter how skinny the birds are. And in return, Jihoon knows that the moment he is seriously injured without cover, he'll be set upon, eaten alive and becoming just another one of the countless barren skeletons dotting the landscapes

  
  
It's incredible how well they work together for two people who don't know much about each other. Seungcheol can make an interesting conversation out of nearly anything, but the moment it turns to his previous life he clams up. Understandable, if his past is what Jihoon thinks it is.

  


The group they're leading right now are more capable than most. Three young men, their clothes beautifully tailored forest green under the mud.

 

It was obvious that all three of them were itching to do something to help instead of sitting around doing nothing, especially with how little Jihoon charged for his services(what use would he have for money out here, anyways?)

 

The tallish, willowy one with the sharp eyes volunteers  to help Seungcheol start the fire, wrinkling his nose up but helping scrape out the right amount of collected muglump fat and striking the flint.

 

The one who always looks a bit surprised volunteers to gut and clean the three oozefish that had been caught, eating it not-so-happily later.

 

And when the others had settled down to sleep on the dried-out mud, the third, cat-eyed traveler volunteered to take first watch with Jihoon. They sit on the slope of the dune they were camped behind, gazing out across the wasteland.

 

"What was your name again?" Jihoon asks.

 

"Joshua," he replies. Jihoon nods and leans back.

 

Silence settles in again, the few living creatures around  fast asleep. His shift companion fiddles with his hands for a minute before making eye contact.

 

"We really can't thank you enough," Joshua starts. "I know how hard it is to find a real guide."

 

"You're not in Undertown yet," Jihoon says. Joshua smiles a bit.

 

"That's true. But I can tell. You're a good person." His earnesty catches Jihoon off guard.

 

"Thanks," he mumbles, looking down at his mud-covered legs.

  
  
                                                                                                                     *  *  *

 

Seeing the three of them off at the outskirts of Undertown sends a little pang of longing through Jihoon, staring at the receding figures for a few minutes before Seungcheol claps a hand onto his shoulder, both of them turning around to disappear back into the Mire.


End file.
